A Second Chance (The Publicist, Book Four) Page 4

  “Like hell, and for the record, I told you to tell him who you were, not invite him to a week in Vermont so you can jack with him. This isn’t fair to either of you.” Her sister sounded impatient, and Sydney could hear her two nieces and her nephew in the background. Her heart tugged for a moment. She wished that she had a child; she wished she’d given birth to some magical creature that she’d fall in love with instantly and love forever.

  Someone who would never leave.

  Everyone leaves. A voice, not her own, bumped through her mind.

  “Look, Jen, it’ll be fine. I need to get this book done and then maybe I can talk the agency into sending me on another mission.”

  “Don’t toy with him because you’re bored, Syd. I’m telling you no good can come of this. And also, you should tell him who you are.”

  “I will,” Sydney said, shoving the last of what she needed into a small duffel. If there’s one thing the CIA taught her, it was how to pack.

  “This is not a good idea, Syd. I mean, I get it, I get why you’d want to jack with him, but don’t. Oh, and I just wanted to add that I Googled him and it seems he’s turned into quite a hottie,” she giggled. “Not that he wasn’t easy on the eyes in high school.”

  Men always seemed to age better than women, and men like Mac only got more delicious as the years ticked by.

  “Look, I have to go. I want to get up to the farm tonight before Mac gets there. I haven’t been there in ages and I’m sure everything is covered in a layer of dust.”

  “Wonder Woman dusts, too? Is there no end to your talents?”

  Sydney could tell she was smiling: “Stop it. I love you, I’ll call you in a few days.”

  “You better, and don’t do any CIA stuff on him, drop the shield for the next week, ok?”

  “I gotta run.” Sydney blew a kiss into the phone. Drop the CIA stuff? It was who she was. The agency had molded her, trained her, and taken her from a shy girl to the woman she was today.

  Chapter 10

  Mac steered his rental car along the scenic roads of Vermont. It had been years since he’d been in this part of the country, and even though it was not officially fall, the leaves were already tinged with hues of red and orange.

  Something about Anne kept weighing on his mind, something altogether too familiar. It was like knowing something without knowing it, or without the realization of it fully sinking in. He was pretty sure that they’d met before, maybe at a function or something? But what he wasn’t clear on was why his mind wouldn’t let it go. He’d met hundreds of people at one event or another, but something about this woman haunted him.

  The GPS on his phone indicated that he was almost to her house. He wished he had more information on her. He looked her up online, but of course couldn’t find anything. Not even a Facebook page. Generally, when he worked on book projects like this he would go into it with more information, but this this wasn’t anything like what he had worked on in the past. This was a CIA operative, who, by just putting her name out there, could endanger her life and the lives of others. Secrecy was paramount in this situation, and while Mac understood that, there was still something about Anne that bothered him. There was a familiarity to her, but also something more. A raw sexuality mixed with someone who wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met before.

  He’d picked up Carolyn from the airport the day prior, she was just returning from India and he’d told her he’d signed the Wonder Woman project. He confided to her everything but her name, and his ex-wife had looked at him with just the faintest hint of a smile and told him, “Why Mac, you’ve met your match. She sounds like the female version of you.”

  Mac pulled into Sydney’s driveway as Carolyn’s words echoed in his head.

  Met his match. Indeed, that may be true, the problem was that he could not or would not ever act on it. That wasn’t a line he could cross. His career had already taken one tumble too many.

  The farm house was one story, but big, Mac estimated more than four bedrooms, possibly six. There was a fairly wide porch that wrapped around the entire structure. The house sat on a 20-acre piece of land on a quiet back road. There was a barn he could see off in the distance. All in all, the place seemed pretty amazing. Anne had told him she hardly used it, but he couldn’t imagine why. If he owned this, he’d be here every weekend. Mac shifted the BMW into park and stepped out of the car. He had dressed down for this, wearing just a pair of jeans and a crisp white shirt that was open at the collar. He reached in the back seat to pull out his suitcase and began walking up the path to the house. As he did, he spotted a woman coming around the side, carrying an armful of firewood.

  “Can I help you with that?” Mac offered and Sydney threw him a smile. Oh, right, Wonder Woman.

  “I’m fine, go on inside and make yourself at home. I’ll set this down and show you to your room.”

  Mac watched her bend over to set the wood down, as she did the jeans she was wearing pulled tautly over her perfect ass. Even though she was an author he was going to publish, which was off limits, he couldn’t help but take in the view, which was extraordinary. Mac shook off his desire and stepped inside the house.

  Inside the view was equally as impressive, with polished wood floors and high wood-beamed ceilings. As Mac walked into the hallway, he glanced into the living room and saw the extremely large fireplace off to the left. To the right was an office, probably where Anne worked when she was here. Mac set his suitcase down and stood in the hallway, admiring the craftsmanship that must have gone into building this place.

  “Joe and I planned to raise a family here.” Sydney said, approaching him quietly. He hadn’t heard her come in. Of course he hadn’t, her CIA training probably taught her how to enter a room without even being detected.

  “It’s lovely,” Mac turned and threw her a smile and Sydney felt her stomach clench. Looking at this man was foreplay. Damn it. Maybe her sister had been right, maybe this was a bad idea.

  “Come,” stuffing her emotions down, she stepped past him, “let me show you to your room.”

  Mac followed her past the living room, and spotted the large kitchen (that had another large fireplace, of course). The hallway where the bedrooms were was a long one and he counted five doors, no doubt she and Joe had planned on having a big family. Now she was here with this house filled with memories and what would have been.

  “I set up this room for you, why don’t you get settled and come into the kitchen. I’ll make us lunch.” Sydney was standing in the room and as Mac entered, suddenly the room was filled with him. Sydney fought the urge to tell him, right then and there who she was, or rather who she had been. She fought the urge to tell him how she’d cried night after night when he went away to college or how she’d spotted his wedding announcement in the paper and had cried again. Sydney blinked and steadied herself against whatever emotional tidal wave was surging inside her, and then she turned and walked out without saying another word.

  Chapter 11

  Mac had felt it, too, when she was in the room. When they were standing there for the briefest of moments. The chemistry that he’d felt in her office only magnified by being alone with her in this house, far away from the city, far away from just about anything or anyone. He wanted to say something, to acknowledge the electricity that sparked between them, but that would only lead to other things, as it often did. If you feel something, don’t say anything. Close your eyes and pretend it’s not there.

  Eventually it will go away.

  Or get worse.

  He needed to get the job done and get the hell out of there. Maybe they could work through the night and just finish this, but after reading the entire manuscript he knew that was wrong. The book needed work.

  And a lot of it.

  He set down his suitcase, hung up a few things and decided it was time to just get this whole project started. He pulled the manuscript out of his briefcase, grabbed his computer and headed to the kitchen. He arrived to find Anne making sand
wiches. She turned and smiled and that’s when he noticed her nipples, pressed against the thin fabric of her t-shirt.

  Great.

  Mac took a deep breath and willed himself to look away, tamping down the desire that started to swell inside him.

  “I assume turkey is fine,” she said, handing him a plate.

  “Sure, yes, fine thank you.” Mac took a seat at the kitchen table which was tucked away in the breakfast area, along a bank of tall windows that looked out over the property. He set the manuscript and his laptop down beside him.

  “I have soup, too, if you’d like?”

  “Sure, a cup would be great.” Mac focused his attention outside, on the property, not on the tall, attractive blond that was making him lunch. The grounds were well maintained, especially considering that she was so rarely here.

  “You keep this place up well,” he said, before taking a bite of his sandwich.

  She set down the small cup of soup for him and said: “I try to, I mean there’s a guy who brings his horses over to graze here, so the grass doesn’t get unwieldy. Several of the neighbors do, in fact. I wish I could still keep horses. We used to, when Joe was alive, and we came here quite often, but now….” her voice drifted off and she went to grab her lunch, “Now it’s just me. I’m not here that often, so keeping the horses wasn’t possible. I gave them to my neighbor.”

  There was something final in her voice as if at some point she’d just given up.

  “If I may ask, why do you keep this place?” Mac asked, taking another large bite of his sandwich.

  Sydney shrugged and sat down, “Too busy, I guess, to figure out what to do with it. I should get rid of it, but…”

  “It’s hard.” Mac finished for her, and for a moment Sydney flashed back to when they were in high school and even before then, when they’d met years before. He could always finish her thoughts.

  Sydney nodded, “It is. Sometimes my sisters bring their families here, so, you know, it does get used, just not that much. I’ll give you a tour if you want, maybe after lunch?”

  “Sure,” he smiled and flipped open his laptop, not only did they need to get to work, but he needed the distraction Anne in a dress was one thing, but Anne dressed down was quite another.

  They worked for several hours around the kitchen table, mostly talking about the mission, the one that had dubbed her Wonder Woman, and Mac realized that the project wasn’t helping to lessen his desire for her. The more he discovered about Anne, the more he wanted to know, the more fascinated he became with this amazing creature.

  Chapter 12

  A few minutes before five, Mac suggested a break and dinner in town, because the last thing he wanted was to have her wait on him the entire time. Sydney agreed and retreated to her room to take a shower, while Mac checked his email. The house didn’t have wifi, so she directed him to the study, which had a cable he could plug into his laptop.

  The study was cozy, that’s the only word Mac could think of for it. There was a big wooden desk pushed up against the long window. He set down his laptop, found the cable and hooked it up. As his email pinged in, Mac took a moment to look around the office. Frames and pictures hung all around and Mac felt himself drawn to them. An odd sense of curiosity overcame him. The more he knew about Anne, the more he wanted to know. When he looked at her wedding picture, his gut tightened. This was how she looked twenty plus years ago.

  Mac blinked, certainly he was mistaken. Then he spotted more pictures. A soccer team photo taken when she was in high school. He recognized the uniforms and her smiling face shot out at him, ricocheting through his senses. The realization nearly caused him to stumble forward:

  Sydney.

  How could that be? He pulled the picture off of the wall and stared at it.

  God.

  His Sydney.

  She was his Sydney.

  Sydney Montgomery, the girl he’d fallen in love with from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was eight years old and her family had just moved to his neighborhood. Even at that young age, Sydney with her long blond hair took Mac’s breath away. They were inseparable, almost from the moment they met. Then when she was fourteen, he kissed her and realized he never wanted to stop kissing her.

  Mac was still staring at the picture when Sydney walked in, dressed in a light blue shirt and a pair of dress pants. Her blond, wavy hair freshly washed. Mac turned and looked at her, holding the picture. Neither of them said a word.

  There you are, his gaze seemed to say and a spark of recognition traveled through her as they both realized in that moment that Mac now knew exactly who she was.

  Chapter 13

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, his voice was dark with emotion.

  Sydney shrugged and walked further into the room, “I planned to, it just didn’t seem important.”

  Mac looked at her as if she had just slapped him, “Not important? How could you not think it was important to tell me who you were? I mean, because of what we had and who we were…” Mac’s words trailed off, he looked back at the picture and for a brief, shutter shot moment he remembered what it was like to be with her, to make love to her and to hear her tell him for the first time that she loved him, too.

  Sydney put on her best CIA face and told him: “As I said, I planned to tell you, I just wanted to find the right time.”

  Mac jammed a hand through his hair, he fought the urge to hug her like an old friend, or kiss her like he wanted to. He hung the picture back in its place and paced back to the desk, “Sydney, this is just, I can’t even… And you used your middle name? Were you so dead set on me not knowing who you were?”

  Sydney crossed her arms, steeling herself against what she really wanted to do, which, was to walk over to him and touch him, but that would be bad.

  Really bad.

  “Mac, I really don’t see how this matters. It was ages ago, we were young, and telling you who I was would have clouded things.” She tried to make her voice sound matter-of-fact, but she wasn’t at all sure she succeeded.

  Mac spun around, “Not matter? My God, Sydney, I loved you so much and you just moved on with never a word about us. I mean we were friends…”

  “Yes, and then we weren’t. We were lovers until you found Carolyn, and I thought it best if I bow out and let you two, you know…”

  Mac held up a hand, “Whoa, Syd, what the hell are you talking about?” He stepped closer, stepping into her personal space and crowding her both physically and mentally.

  “I need wine,” she turned abruptly and walked out of the office.

  “Sydney,” Mac said, following her, “I want to talk about this. You can’t just drop this bomb and expect it to not affect me.”

  Sydney spun around in the hallway, “It’s always about you, isn’t it, Mac?” She was standing too close to him. She was inches from his face and she could see his pulse beating wildly in his neck.

  Mac put a hand on her arm and her body sizzled, “Sydney, this isn’t about me, it’s about what happened with us.” His voice was soft, but edged with anger.

  “Let me go,” she pulled away from him and kept walking toward the kitchen. She yanked open a cupboard, pulled out two wine glasses and then uncorked a bottle that was sitting on the counter.

  “Look,” Mac began as he watched her pour, “I get that it was a long time ago, but I never knew what happened. I mean, why you just started avoiding me. I never got it, Syd.”

  She took a long sip of her wine and glared at him. Even now, some thirty-five years later, the emotions around it were still a little raw.

  Time heals all wounds.

  Well, maybe not all of them.

  “You started dating Carolyn, so I backed off,” she said simply, willing the wine to do its work. How was it possible that with all of her CIA training, she couldn’t emotionally defend herself against Mac or what he’d done to her?

  “I never dated Carolyn, not ever, not until long after you were gone.”

  Syd bl
inked, “Stop it, Mac. Don’t lie, it’s fine and it was dozens of years ago. You met Carolyn, I found Joe, it’s fine.”

  Mac leaned on the counter and pinned her with his stare, “No, Syd, it’s not fine. This crazy misconception you seem to have that I dumped you for Carolyn without even telling you is not fine. Yes, I was spending time with her, but only to tutor her because she was failing English Lit and her parents were pressuring her to get into some big colleges. She knew I’d aced it the year before, so she asked me.”

  Sydney’s eyes narrowed, she didn’t want to believe Mac, but his body language told her he wasn’t lying. “Why not tell me?”

  “She asked me not to, she was embarrassed. Her parents were always big on impressing people. How would it look if their daughter was failing in school? I honored her request to keep it between us, but I know I should have told you. I was young, not that that’s an excuse, but well, I could have done better by you and I’m sorry.”

  Sydney sipped her wine again, “It’s fine, whatever, bygones and all that.”

  Mac walked over to her and said, “It’s not fine, Syd, I’d like to know why you just threw in the towel. I mean, we were friends, why didn’t you ask me?”

  Sydney took a step back to give her more physical distance from him, “I was sixteen and in love. And sex confused everything between us. I was hurt and she was beautiful.”

  “But so were you,” He said gently. So are you, he almost added.

  “I don’t want to talk about this.” She said as firmly as she could while turning away, it was an awkward past she didn’t like to be reminded of. She was always too tall, towering over almost all boys except for Mac. She was lanky, skinny, and shy, really painfully shy. Mac had been a sort of lifeline to her and without him, she had spiraled into anonymity, spending hours in her room just reading.